Tearing Me Apart
by butterflie
Summary: Yamato has a secret... and it's tearing him apart. Taichi and Yamato friendship fic. Self-harm, mentions of rape.
1. Tearing Me Apart

  
Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine. It belongs to Toei Animation and original creators. Arrangement of words and any characters not mentioned in Digimon series belong to me. Please do not reproduce any of this in any way. The lyrics belong to Linkin Park, and are from the song called "In the End" on the CD Hybrid Theory, Track 8.   
  
Author's Notes: Well, I didn't think I'd do any more fanfiction, but here I am. This fic deals with self-injury by way of cutting. If this triggers you, or bothers you, don't read it. It's as simple as that. This takes place when Yamato-tachi are all ninensei, or 11th graders. So they're between the ages of 16-17. And yes, the Digiworld stuff happened, but there's not really any reason to bring it up here. This is a one-shot fic, and is probably full of angst and self-abuse. This is not Taito, it's simply a friendship fic, though anyone who's read my other stuff knows I whole-heartedly support both yaoi and Taito. "Just because you're wearing a tie doesn't mean to say you're bloody important."   
  
**Tearing Me Apart**  
by: _butterflie, formerly known as Crimson Goddess_  
start: 3 December 2003 Wednesday   
  
_It starts with one thing  
I don't know why  
It doesn't even matter how hard you try  
Keep that in mind  
I designed this rhyme to explain  
in due time all I know  
Time is a valuable thing  
watch it fly by as the pendulum swings  
watch it count down to the end of the day  
the clock ticks life away  
it's so unreal didn't look out below  
watch the time go right out the window  
tryin to hold on but you didn't even know  
I wasted it all just to watch you go  
I kept everything inside and even though  
I tried it all fell apart what it meant to me  
will eventually be a memory_  
-**In the End, LINKIN PARK**   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Crimson pools of red, blossoming, spreading, running down pale white. A sudden sharpness biting down into softness, dragging through. Lift. Repeat. Lift. Repeat. Impassionate blue eyes staring. A small smile tugging. Tensions bursting, emotions too complex for words forming and falling apart. Everything jumbling together, not making sense and yet nothing more perfect. Release...   
  
Drops of red falling, spattering, staining. A replacing frown, soft curses breaking the silence.   
  
Yamato sighed, and stared at the blood staining his carpet. "Damn," he let out softly. He put down his blade, but instead of cleaning up his mess like he knew he should, he stared at his arm instead. Fresh red marks overlapped fading ones, criss-crossed patches of stark lines defining his arm. A lot were scars. Others were just cuts that over time would join the scars. And of course, there were the marks courtesy of just a few minutes.   
  
He'd already forgotten what had set him off. Most likely a build-up of frustrated emotions, emotions he had no idea how to release. He was cutting a lot lately, and this was usually the reason why.   
  
_Hell, I can't even remember the reason for half of these anymore.... At first, I had a reason. Or as much of a reason one can have for this kind of thing, anyway. But now.. every little thing can set me off, it seems. And sometimes the urge just comes over me, without any real reason at all. And I'm stuck in it's tight grip until I release it._   
  
_I should get help._ Yamato couldn't count the number of times he'd thought that in the past year and a month. He'd tried, God knows he'd tried. But in the end he couldn't go through with it. Couldn't speak the four words that would release him from the hell he'd created for himself. So he went on cutting, and cutting, and things just went further and further past that point of no return.   
  
He let out another sigh, and picked his blade back up, heading to the bathroom to clean up. He had to get everything back to normal before his dad came home. Didn't need him suspecting anything.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Never-ending pounding on his door woke Yamato the next morning. He groaned as he cracked a sleep-filled eye open.   
  
"Yamato! Get up, you'll be late for school!" That was his dad, yelling through the locked door.   
  
He forced his eye open and looked at the clock. 7:45. His dad was right. Usually he was up at 7:20. He propped himself up on one elbow, but winced when a stinging feeling assaulted his arm. _Ow.... what the hell?_ He looked down at his arm, caught sight of those red marks, seemingly innocent but nevertheless reminding him of all the reasons to just go back to sleep and make it all go away. _Oh yeah... I cut again yesterday. Can't believe I forgot._   
  
Tossing aside his covers, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid out. _Wonder if I should wrap that up... Nah... I think it will be fine._   
  
"Yamato, are you up yet?"   
  
"Uh, yeah-" he cleared his scratchy-sounding throat and tried again. "Yeah dad, I'm awake. Thanks."   
  
"Alright, well hurry up son, don't be late."   
  
"I won't," he called back, even as he was quickly pulling on his uniform for school. He unlocked his door and heading down the hall to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and fiddled with his hair, getting it just so. _Dammit, why is my arm hurting so much? Usually it barely bothers me._ He removed his blazer and rolled up the white sleeves. As he did so, he noticed a few spots of red. _Oh come on! Don't tell me..._ It was. One of the cuts was bleeding again.   
  
_That stain will never come out._ He pulled out the bandages, deciding it would be good to wrap them after all. Once he was finished, he ducked back into his room to quickly snatch up his knapsack, and headed down the hall, waving a hurried goodbye to his dad, who was busy making coffee--the only thing he managed not to burn.   
  
"Yamato, don't you want some coffee or toast or something?" his dad sounded surprised.   
  
"No time today dad, gotta run, thanks anyway." And he was gone.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Classes went by slowly. To Yamato, every minute spent at school was torture. Maybe not as bad as right after _that_ had happened, but he still hated school. And today was going badly. He'd came in late and received a detention. Then he'd managed to get into a fight with Taichi--something that hadn't happened in awhile. It left him feeling unsettled and strangely guilty. He'd been missing his homework in two of his classes. Two more days of detention for that. He hadn't had time to make a lunch this morning, and there was no money to buy something. Then to top it all off, that cut from the morning kept sporadically bleeding. He must have cut deeper than he'd realized, not that he really remembered.   
  
And now he wanted to do it again. Cut.   
  
_It's getting worse. Used to, I could get by with cutting once, maybe twice a month. Then it was about four times a month. Then twice a week... now it just keeps moving up. But this is the first time I've ever had the urge to do it two consecutive days. This can't keep going on. It's crazy. But I don't know how to stop it anymore. I almost wish someone would just find me, or ask me..   
  
But I'd be so ashamed then, and they'd want to know why, and I'd have to tell everyone about Eric... and I don't want to do that._   
  
"Ano.... Yamato?"   
  
He looked up. Taichi was standing over him, a look of slight confusion on his face. "Class is over, you realize that?" Yamato looked around, saw all the students cleaning up the room.   
  
"Oh. Heh. How'd I miss that, I wonder..." he gave Taichi a sheepish grin. Taichi grinned back at him, but Yamato didn't miss the concern in his eyes.   
_Hell. Way to go Yamato._ He tossed his books into his bag and stood, smiling brightly. "Sorry, I can't go home with you today, Taichi."   
  
"Detention, right?"   
  
"Yeah... three days."   
  
"That's not like you, Yama."   
  
"Eh.. I fell asleep early last night. Didn't finish my homework and didn't set my alarm. This is what I get in return. Oh well. I'll live."   
  
"You should have told me earlier. I've could have got detention and shared it with you!"   
  
They both laughed. "Well, there's still two more days left, if you really want to try," Yamato joked.   
  
"Try? I don't even have to try!"   
  
"Alright boys," Ishikawa Sensei said. "Don't loiter around after class."   
  
"Hai, Sensei," they said, and immediately begin heading towards the door. After a quick stop at lockers, they parted company at the front gate, and Yamato headed towards the room where detention was held, thankful it was Tadaji Sensei who was in charge today.   
  
"Hello Yamato-kun," Tadaji Sensei greeted him as he walked in the classroom. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Serving detention," the blond answered ruefully.   
  
Tadaji Sensei raised his eyebrows. "Wouldn't have expected it of you."   
  
Yamato just nodded and handed him his detention slip, then went to sit down in a sit near the front. He waited an appropriate time of about twenty minutes, growing ever more anxious with each minute that passed. _I can make this, I can make this.. only twenty more minutes.._ When about twenty minutes had passed, he stood and made his way to the desk.   
  
"Tadaji Sensei," he whispered urgently. The man looked up. "Yes?"   
  
"May I please use the restroom? It's an emergency!"   
  
The teacher hesitated, but then conceded, "Well, alright.. but try to hurry."   
  
"Thanks!" He hurried down the hall to a bathroom, and then locked himself in a stall, where he pulled up his left sleeve and promptly yanked his blade out of his pocket.   
  
The feel of the cold steel sinking into his skin was heaven. He dug it in as deep as he dared, then dragged it across his arm quickly. Red blood immediately started to seep out of the jagged cut, and to Yamato it was a beautiful sight. He lifted the blade out of his arm, then slashed at his arm over and over, quick shallow marks that would leave only tiny scars, if any. But the pain... it'd leave a stinging sensation he'd welcome, different from the pain he got from the deeper cuts. Better. The deeper cuts didn't really feel good. They hurt in a bad way, though they gave him lots of relief while he was making them. The shallower cuts would hurt for days on end, and just enough so that he felt real, felt alive.   
  
Satisfied now, and with the edge off of that burning urge deep inside him, he rolled down his sleeve and blazer, then washed the blade off at the sink before heading back to the classroom. Hopefully he hadn't been gone too long.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
There was a note waiting for him on the table when he got home from school.   
  
_Hey, I stopped by, but you weren't here. Taichi said you were serving detention..? I didn't know whether or not to believe him. I thought maybe you'd be interested in going to see that new movie this weekend, but I guess I'll ask you later. Call me sometime soon, 'niichan, 'k?   
  


Takeru

_  
  
He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't wanted to do anything this weekend other than sleep. But he didn't want Takeru worrying about him. He couldn't deal with questions. Questions led to things he meant to keep secret. "So I guess I'm stuck going to this movie," he said out loud.   
  
There was also another note left for him on the fridge.   
  
_Have to work late tonight. Sorry. Don't worry about dinner--I'll get something at work. Just get yourself some take-out or something. Call if you need anything._   
  
His dad. Nothing unusual there, he thought bitterly. _Just once I wish you'd be here for me when I so desperately need you. Need somebody. But of course your damned tv station is more precious than your own flesh and blood son.._   
  
He knew he was being unfair, that his father loved him, but dammit, it was so hard to acknowledge that when all his father ever did was work! _He's never around hardly, doesn't notice me much.. I bet if I killed myself, it'd be a week before he even noticed, and only then because he wouldn't get dinner when he came home._ That was even more unfair, and Yamato hated himself for even thinking it. Yet he couldn't stop wondering if it was true sometimes. The thought made him feel awful inside, and before he knew it he was sobbing wildly, picking up things and throwing them around the kitchen. He picked up a cup and hurled it across the room, watching the glass shatter and enjoying the sight, oddly enough. He picked up a plate, and threw that too.   
  
"I hate you! You're never here for me when I need you! You weren't there a year ago, you weren't there the first time I hurt myself, and you're not here now! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Each "hate" was punctuated by some random dish. A cup, a bowl, a plate... whatever breakable was available, he threw it. Eventually he ran out of things to throw, and reached for silverware. The first thing his frenzied fingers happened upon was a knife. Without hardly being aware of it, he'd seized it and started slashing out angrily at his arms, marking over the cuts he'd made yesterday and earlier today, not really feeling anything, only enjoying the site of crimson spilling out everywhere, painting his arms and the floor. He was still screaming at his absent father.   
  
Eventually the blond came back to himself, still sobbing quietly, but no longer angry and frantic. Now he just ached. He sank to his knees amidst all the broken glass and porcelain, lowered his head, and wept.   
  
It was an hour before he finally collected himself. Once he did, he slowly got to his feet and grabbed the broom and dustpan, starting the tedious task of sweeping up the mess he'd made. Most of their dishes were currently lying on the floor of the kitchen, with just a few left inside the cabinets. At least there was still the silverware. When he'd finished with the glass, he soaked a sponge and began scrubbing at the congealing blood on the floor. To his relief it came off fairly easily. He didn't know how he would have explained the stains to his dad.   
  
Then he went about the task of cleaning himself up. This took the longest. There were many cuts, and they varied in shallowness. To be on the safe side, he poured disinfectant over his arms, screaming at the unbearable pain as it bubbled and frothed. The knife probably had been a little rusty, a lot of their knives were. Once the disinfectant was finished, he rubbed Neosporin over the cuts, and finished it all off with layers of white bandages wrapped around his arms. He pulled his white shirt off completely, and carried it to his room. He'd have to trash it, but not where his dad could see it. So he just stuck it in an empty desk drawer and got a clean black shirt out of his dresser. His blazer he threw in the wash with some bleach, hoping that would remove the few drops of blood on that. After that he crawled into bed and cried some more, hating himself for being so weak, and hoping against hope his dad wouldn't even notice the dishes.   
  
He had no such luck. A little after midnight he was woken by his dad bellowing for him to get in the kitchen, _this instant_!   
  
He made sure his sleeves were pulled down completely, then acknowledged his father's yelling and slowly went into the kitchen.   
  
"Hai?" he asked, blinking his eyes sleepily, trying to appear innocent. His dad wasn't in the mood for his little act, however.   
  
"What the hell happened to all our dishes? Why are most of them in the trash?"   
  
"Ano...." his brain scurried around frantically, trying to find an excuse hidden in a corner somewhere that he could pull out and make it sound plausible. "Well, I broke them," he said stalling.   
  
Masaharu scowled. "I'm aware of that. What I want to know is _how_. And why."   
  
"I didn't mean to," Yamato said truthfully. Because he really hadn't. He'd just sort of... lost it.   
  
"So how did you?"   
  
"I... I...." _dammit Yamato, think of something! Gah, you're so stupid!_ He could feel his eyes starting to fill with tears, and he panicked. "I- I dropped them!" he blurted out, then immediately winced. What the hell kind of excuse was that?   
  
"Dropped them?! All of them? Maybe if it had just been a few, I could understand, but how the hell could you drop _all_ of them?"   
  
Quickly, "Eto.. I was just lifting the strainer to carry them closer to the cabinet, and it just slipped out of my hand, and they all broke! I'm really sorry! I'll replace them! I'll save up the money and buy some new ones myself!" And then to his horror he burst into tears anyway.   
  
Masaharu looked surprised. "Yamato..."   
  
But Yamato wasn't having any of it. With another apology, he fled the kitchen to the safety of his locked room. He sobbed angrily at himself for awhile. _I'm falling apart.. breaking down. I can't take this much longer. I'm sick of living like this. Hell, I'm sick of living, period. I wish I could die._  
The thought shocked him to automatic silence for a moment, and when the realization hit home a few moments later, he started crying again, even harder this time. _It's not true! I don't really want to die! I don't want to leave my family and friends behind, I don't want to leave my band behind, or all the memories of happier times. I want to live.. but I want to die. Thank God I don't have the courage to do it myself... Thank God I'm torn between life and death. Each moment of uncertainty means another moment of living.   
  
Oh God, I need help. Somebody help me, please. I can't do this anymore!_   
  
"I can't do this!" he screamed, forgetting his dad was home. Even if he'd remembered, it was doubtful he'd have cared. Angrily he snatched up his school textbooks off his desk, and sent them slamming into the wall across the room. "I can't do this anymore! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of it..."   
  
A knock came at his door. "Yamato?" Masaharu sounded scared, and with good reason. "Yamato, open this door."   
  
"Go away!" the boy shouted at his father, still sobbing, even as he picked up a small unused lamp. He threw that at the wall as well, and the bulb inside shattered. "Just leave me be!"   
  
"Ishida Yamato, open this door right now!"   
  
"NO! Go... AWAY!!" And then he said no more, just continued to cry.   
  
Masaharu stayed outside the door, and eventually sat down with his back to it, listening worriedly to the sounds within and wondering if something had happened to his son. _At least now I know what_ really _happened to our dishes._   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
His head was pounding, that was the first thing he noticed. The second was that he was on the floor. For a moment, he was confused, but then yesterday and last night's events came seeping back through his memory, and he realized he must have fallen asleep on the floor.   
  
_I had a breakdown.._ he thought distractedly. Groaning, he stood and opened his door. His dad fell over backwards.   
  
Yamato frowned down at him. _Okay...._   
  
Masaharu let out a moan, and opened his eyes. "Ow...." He looked up at his son standing over him. He still remembered the events of the night quite clearly. Whatever was wrong though, Yamato seemed to have gotten over it now. "Are you okay?" he asked his son, still somewhat frightened over Yamato's behaviour.   
  
The teen didn't meet his eyes. "I'm fine." He glanced over at his clock. 10:22. "You're late for work."   
  
The older man frowned. "What? What time is it?"   
  
"10:22," he was informed.   
  
"Damn!" he got to his feet. "Here, get ready for school and I'll take you on the way to work."   
  
Yamato shook his head. "Not going."   
  
"What?" His father frowned. "Of course you are. You'll just be late, that's all. I'll write you an excuse."   
  
"No," he replied, a bit forcibly. "I'm _not_ going."   
  
"Yamato..." Masaharu began, then thought better of it and stopped. _It's not worth it. I don't have time to argue, and I'm a little afraid to push him.._ He sighed. "Fine. You can stay home. Just for today."   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Taichi was in the middle of fighting a bunch of Tonberries when the phone rang. After two rings, it stopped, so he ignored it and continued fighting. Hikari appeared a minute later, phone in hand. "S'for you."   
  
The brunette scowled, and paused his game. _And I was just about to get a Limit Break too..._ "Who is it?" he asked his sister.   
  
She looked troubled. "I.. I _think_ it's Yamato, but I can't be sure.."   
  
Frowning, he took the phone she held out to him. "Hello?"   
  
"Taichi? Oh God Taichi, I saw him, I was just crossing the street and he was there, I saw him and he saw me and he smiled and I saw him oh God Taichi I ran home but I'm so scared now Taichi..." Yamato was blubbering, barely making any sense at all.   
  
Taichi scowled again and interrupted. "Yamato, I don't really understand what you're saying, but I'm coming over right now, okay?"   
  
Yamato hiccupped, still sobbing, but he managed to get out an "okay".   
  
Taichi hung up the phone, and snatched his jacket up from where it'd been stretched out across the back of the couch. He shoved his shoes on then disappeared out the door, practically running to Yamato's. He sensed something was terribly wrong, though he had no idea what.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Yamato didn't answer the door right away when there was a knock. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to figure out if it was Eric or Taichi. The problem was solved when Taichi spoke.   
  
"Yama, it's me, let me in!"   
  
At that, Yamato dived towards the door and yanked it open, pulling Taichi inside quickly, then slamming the door back and locking it. Taichi took one look at his friend and didn't even bother with questions, just pulled the crying blond into a tight hug, smoothing back his hair and whispering soothing things into his ear.   
  
Yamato clung to him like he was the only lifeline left, and eventually he managed to stop crying enough to make sense. Taichi released him and led him over to the couch, sitting him down. "Stay there. I'm going to get you some water."   
  
Yamato nodded, and in few moments was gulping down cold and welcome water from one of their few remaining glasses. Taichi was sitting down next to him, and he placed his empty glass on the floor, then put his head down on Taichi's lap, still crying slightly. Taichi didn't say anything, just resumed stroking his hair lightly. "So what happened?" he asked gently. "I.. I saw him again, Taichi.. I was.. I was.. and I saw him, and.." He started to get hysterical again, but Taichi just shushed him, and let him sit in silence for a bit more.   
  
"Who's 'him'?" he finally asked.   
  
"I.. You wouldn't know him," Yamato whispered, eyes closed. "Him is Eric. He was.." he paused. He'd never told Taichi he was gay, and he wasn't sure how his friend would react. But he plunged on anyway, consumed by the need to tell someone, anyone, his horrible secrets and not have to deal with it alone anymore. And if Taichi damned him for it, well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. "Eric was my boyfriend." He opened his eyes and looked up into the face of his friend, scared of the reaction. Taichi merely smiled softly at him, and Yamato felt better about continuing. He smiled back.   
  
"And?" Taichi prompted. "You say was."   
  
Yamato attempted a nod. "Yeah. Was. I sort of dumped him a year and a month ago."   
  
"Why?"   
  
This was it. He couldn't look back after this. _You can do this, Yamato.._ "I-I never told anyone this before. I was so scared, and hurt, and didn't want anyone to worry, didn't know how anyone would react..."   
  
"What? What happened, Yamato?"   
  
"I thought he really liked me.." more tears filled his eyes. "We'd went to the movies for a date. Dad was working late again, so we came here... I'd made out with him before--this isn't grossing you out, is it?" he interrupted himself, suddenly self-conscious.   
  
Taichi laughed ever so slightly. "No, go on."   
  
"Well.. so anyway, it wasn't anything new. I was comfortable, and we both enjoyed it. Nothing real serious, you know? I still don't know what went wrong.. but he started getting more intense, more physical, and suddenly it wasn't fun anymore. I didn't like it, felt uncomfortable. I told him to stop, but he didn't listen.. just kept going and going until he went too far, and it couldn't be taken back, couldn't be made better... After it was over, I threw him out. Today was the first time I'd seen him since, since.." He found he couldn't go on. He didn't need to. Taichi understood.   
  
"Oh Yama.." he said, and there were tears in both his voice and his eyes. "You should have told someone..."   
  
"I was scared.. and hurt.. I didn't want to think about it.. I just wanted it to all go away, and I wanted no one to find out, ever. But then I.. I started.. Well, ever since I've been.. dammit!" Frustration underlined his voice, and he took a deep calming breath. Why was it so hard to say? Four words. _I cut myself, Taichi._   
  
"You what?"   
  
_Well, if I can't_ tell _him, I'll_ show _him._ Silently, he rolled up his sleeves. He'd pulled off the bandages early, after he ran from Eric, but then the shakes hit and he'd been unable to replace them. So his arms were bare, exposed to the world.   
  
Taichi frowned, not sure what he was looking at. He pulled Yamato to a sitting position, and took one of Yamato's arms in his hands, and it was only then he realized just what he was staring at. Cuts and scars, adorning Yamato's arms like an intricate, gruesome tattoo. Except this tattoo was made of dried blood and broken skin rather than ink.   
  
"I... you did this?"   
  
Yamato nodded, a few more tears rolling down his cheeks. "Yes," he whispered.   
  
"_Why_?"   
  
"I.. I can't really explain it. You have to actually do it to understand it. But.. it.. it makes me feel alive. It gives me a rush. It's a release of tension.. It lets me know that I'm _real_."   
  
"I still don't understand." The poor brunette frowned.   
  
"I'm sorry, Taichi. I can't really explain it any better than that. It's just... I don't know.." he trailed off, sighing at his inadequacy to put what the cutting made him feel into words powerful enough to convey.   
  
"Does.. does anyone else know?"   
  
"Me. And you. And no one else."   
  
"Does it hurt?"   
  
"Only after the fact."   
  
Taichi looked puzzled at that, but didn't bother saying anything. Instead, he just asked, "And you've been doing this for how long?"   
  
"About.. about a year. I'm sorry."   
  
"Sorry? What for?"   
  
"I should have told you, should have told someone.. but everything just hurt so much, and I didn't know how to make it go away."   
  
"How did you know cutting would make it go away?"   
  
Yamato looked away at the question. "It was an accident. I was making dinner and cut myself... it felt good. So I took the knife and experimented." He pointed to a very faint mark running the length of his right arm. "This was that first cut I made. And then about a month, I just cut myself again, because I felt so horrible. And it just kept happening, and more often..." he dissolved into tears again, and Taichi pulled him back into another tight hug.   
  
"Yama, I think you should tell your dad."   
  
The blond let out a shriek and attempted to pull away from Taichi. He only held him more tightly. "No! I can't tell him! Besides, he probably wouldn't even care."   
  
Taichi didn't miss the bitter tone to Yamato's voice. "What makes you say that?" he questioned, frowning.   
  
"All he cares about is that stupid television station of his," came the quiet mutter.   
  
"What? Come on, you know that's not true. Your father loves you!"   
  
"No! He doesn't! You don't know, Taichi! You're not me! You're never here to see the notes he leaves me almost every day. The ones that tell me that once again, he's working late. He's never here for me when I need him! He doesn't even notice me, he doesn't! I bet if I were to die, he wouldn't even notice for a week! Or longer! And when it finally did, it'd be cos dinner wasn't waiting for him in the fridge! That's all I am to him, Taichi! His personal maid! He doesn't care about me, he never has! Neither of my parents do! I hate them, I hate them both! And I hate dad more! When I was raped, he wasn't here for me so he never noticed something was wrong! And when I started cutting, he wasn't here then either! And he's not here now! My best friend is taking the place of my father! I HATE HIM!"   
  
Taichi didn't say anything, just let his friend have his little tirade, all the while still holding him and rocking him gently from time to time. Yamato had probably needed that.. It was certainly true that his father wasn't ever really here when he needed him, and everyone knew Natsuko didn't care much for her oldest son. But he was still pretty sure Mr. Ishida loved his son. He just wasn't good at showing it. He didn't tell Yamato that, though. It wasn't what he wanted to hear right now.   
  
Eventually the blond became exhausted by it all, and Taichi released him from his grasp, easing him down on the couch. Pretty soon after that Yamato was asleep. Taichi eased his shirt sleeves back down, then went and got the blanket from his room, covering him up with it. He leaned down and softly kissed the sleeping boy's cheek. "Sleep well," he whispered.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Taichi was already there when Yamato arrived in homeroom the next day. He took his seat next to his friend. Taichi smiled at him. "Hey. How are you doing?"   
  
Yamato didn't look at him. "I'm fine. Thanks.. about yesterday."   
  
The smile grew wider. "No problem. I'm just glad you told me."   
  
Yamato mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "go jump in a lake".   
  
"What?"   
  
He cleared his throat. "I said, it wasn't a mistake."   
  
"Uh-huh. That better be what you said."   
  
Nishiki Sensei walked in just then, and the boys quieted for roll call.   
  
Homeroom and second period passed uneventfully, with the exception of Taichi earning two days worth of detention for sleeping in class. He looked sideways at Yamato after being whacked on the head with a ruler. "See? Told you I didn't have to try!" Yamato had to smother his laughter.   
  
Third period went badly. Very, very badly. It was an algebra class, Yamato's worst subject. And, just his luck, there was a test he hadn't studied for. He sat there, staring at the problems sitting there innocently on that white piece of paper. He found them incomprehensible. He begin sweating, and berated himself for his stupidity. When the bell rang at the end of class, he stood, miserable, and turned his test in blank, trying desperately not to cry. At least Taichi hadn't been in the class. He would have noticed something was wrong.   
  
Fourth period was Tadaji Sensei's biology class. Taichi was in the class as well. Almost as soon as the bell had rang, his hand shot up. "Sensei, I need to use the restroom!"   
  
"Very well. Hurry back, there's a test."   
  
_Fuck. Another one I'm going to fail_. He thanked the man and headed to the bathroom, locking himself in a stall. He removed his blazer and rolled up his sleeve, then pulled his blade out. He tried to avoid cutting in school, but sometimes the urge just gripped him, and he absolutely couldn't help it. This was one of those times.   
  
He'd just stopped cutting when he heard the door open, and the sound of someone's footsteps walking in. He went deadly silent, hoping whoever it was would leave. Then Taichi's voice called, "Yamato? Are you in here?"   
  
He sighed, which he discovered was immediately a mistake.   
  
"Yamato, I know you're in here. I just heard you. And I can see your feet."   
  
Yamato sighed again, then pulled open the stall door. Taichi was standing just outside, and he caught sight of the red marks.   
  
"Oh Yamato...."   
  
"I couldn't help it," came the quiet explanation. "I just turned in a test blank last class."   
  
"That's not a reason to hurt yourself.."   
  
"Don't tell me what's a reason and what's not, Yagami Taichi!" he responded fiercely, angry suddenly. "You wouldn't know.. wouldn't understand."   
  
"Well, no, you're right. I don't understand. I don't know why you'd want to deliberately hurt yourself, and I don't understand how it makes you feel better. But I _do_ understand that you need to get that wrapped." He motioned towards the bleeding marks on the pale arm.   
  
Yamato looked away. "I don't have any bandages with me." He tried to change the subject. "Why are you here anyway?"   
  
"Sensei sent me in after you. Said you'd been gone too long."   
  
"Guess we'd better get back then, huh?"   
  
"Yamato.."   
  
The boy in question yanked down the sleeve of his shirt, and patches of crimson automatically burst up, spreading through and ruining pristine white. Taichi winced. He grabbed his blazer from the floor of the stall and pulled it back on, then turned towards Taichi. "Shall we go?"   
  
"I can't believe you're not taking care of that," the brunette muttered. They headed back to class.   
  
Tadaji Sensei greeted them as they entered. "Everything alright, Yamato-kun?"   
  
"Hai, Sensei." He took his seat, and Tadaji Sensei passed out the tests. He did better than he'd expected, although he knew that if he even passed, it'd be with a very low grade. The bell rang, and he turned in his test with the rest of the students, grateful that this one at least wasn't blank.   
  
Taichi pulled him aside before they made it to the lunchroom. "It's bleeding!" he hissed.   
  
"What?" Yamato was confused. _What is he talking about...?_   
  
"Your arm! Look at it!"   
  
He looked.   
  
Indeed, it was very definitely and very _visibly_ bleeding. Dark reddish-brown areas spotted his green blazer. Quickly he yanked up the sleeve. His white shirt was completely soaked through with red blood. "Damn!"   
  
He ducked into a bathroom, Taichi right behind him, and was thankful it was empty. They shut the door, and Taichi managed to jam it up to keep people out, although he didn't really think anyone would come in. They were all busy enjoying their lunches, or stuck in class. Yamato wrestled out of his blazer, and pulled his shirt up over his head. They both looked at his arm. It was still bleeding quite profusely. He ordered Taichi to wet some paper towels and give them to him, which Taichi rushed to do. He blotted away a lot of the blood, hissing at the pain. Though still bleeding, he could see the cut now, and realized just how deep he'd actually cut. _I'm going to have to be more careful from now on.._   
  
Taichi looked frantic. "Yamato! Your arm.."   
  
"It's fine. I just cut too deep, that's all. Do you have anything I can wrap it with?"   
  
"I.. I've got an old school shirt.." he sounded unsure.   
  
"Do you mind parting with it?"   
  
"Not really."   
  
"Then say goodbye, and hand it over. "   
  
Taichi took it out of his knapsack, and handed it over as requested. Yamato worked to tear it into useable strips, and Taichi helped him wrap it around his arm. They finished shortly, and Taichi literally sighed with relief.   
  
"Sorry," Yamato apologized.   
  
"I told you before, you don't have to apologize!"   
  
"Sorry," Yamato repeated again, and there was a grin accompanying the words.   
  
"Oh, you!" Taichi pretended to whack him, and they both laughed, but Yamato hadn't missed the pure panic and fright in Taichi's eyes when they'd seen his arm. He began to wonder if he should have told his best friend after all.   
  
"Come on. Let's go to lunch."   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Yamato walked home slowly after he'd been let out of detention. He'd checked his arm before he'd left, and it seemed to have stopped bleeding, though it still looked a bloody mess. He'd take care of it when he got home.   
  
_I know I scared Taichi with it earlier. But I honestly hadn't meant to cut that deep. Hell, I don't even_ remember _cutting that deep. In fact, the whole episode is sort of a blur.. They've been becoming like that a lot lately. It's kind of scary. Maybe it's a good thing I told Taichi. He can help me from cutting so much._   
  
He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and in doing so accidentally disloged his blade. With a small surprised gasp, he leaned down and hurriedly snatched it back up, shoving it into his pocket before unlocking his door.   
  
He let himself in and slipped off his shoes, then passed through the living room to the kitchen. He stopped short when he caught sight of his dad in front of the sink, a glass of water in hand.   
  
"Ano... T-Tadaima...."   
  
"Okaeri," Masaharu replied softly.   
  
"What.. what are you doing here?" It came out blunt, and he winced, but he was genuinely shocked and didn't know how to conceal it.   
  
His dad didn't really seem surprised, though. He gave his son a sad little smile. "I took the rest of the day off. We need to talk, Yamato."   
  
Yamato looked away. "There's nothing to talk about."   
  
"Isn't there, though? The other day-"   
  
"No. There isn't. And besides, I have band practice today."   
  
"I know something's wrong," his father continued on anyways. "Your fit the other night proved that. And I know you didn't break the dishes by dropping them. I'm pretty sure you threw them the way you did your books and lamp. Happy people don't do that. So something's wrong. I wish you'd tell me what. I'd like to help you, if possible."   
  
"Nothing's wrong. You could have saved yourself and stayed at work."   
  
Masaharu sighed. "I know I don't show it, but I do care about you, Yamato."   
  
"I have to go. Practice starts soon." He walked to his room, telling himself that he wasn't really _running_, that he really _did_ have to get to practice, or Ratsuii would be pissed. He quickly grabbed his guitar and left the apartment, knowing all to well that he was running, and wishing whole-heartedly he could convince himself otherwise.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
Two weeks passed. Things were going pretty well for Yamato, and he hadn't cut once. Having Taichi helped, but Yamato knew the self-restraint was all his own doing, and he was damned proud of himself. A couple of times, he'd sort of wanted to, but they were brief moments, and passed quickly.   
  
Taichi had managed to get his hands on an anime they'd both been wanting to see, called _Azumanga Daioh_, and they spent the better part of the second week watching that and laughing their asses off. It helped. Yamato was occupied with it, it was light and humorous, and it distracted him from thinking about all the things that made him want to cut. School had been going pretty well too. Classes were good, his grades were good, he was there every day and studied well for tests and turned in all his homework.   
  
He'd even managed to get some time in with Takeru. They'd went and saw that movie last weekend, the one Takeru had asked about. It sucked, as Yamato had suspected it would, but afterwards they went out for icecream and he just enjoyed the time with his little brother. He'd thought once, very briefly, about telling Takeru about his cutting, but almost immediately decided against it. It would worry his brother unnecessarily, and he really wasn't ready for anyone else to know. Taichi was enough.   
  
He wasn't sure how things went downhill so quickly. It happened Tuesday night. The day had began well. School was fine, made better by the fact that they had just received a week off for fall break. But then he got home, and everything changed. First, it was seeing the note he hadn't seen since the day his father had been home early.   
  
_Yamato, I'm really sorry, I have to work late, we're trying to get a new show off the ground. Could you please make dinner and throw a load of clothes in the wash? Thanks. I'll be home about eleven or so, most likely._   
  
It upset him, but he didn't want it to get to him. So he threw a load of clothes in the wash. Then he started dinner. That's when things went horribly wrong. He burned himself on a pan. Knocked his head into the cabinet. Accidentally hit his arm hard against something, and opened up a healing cut. It started to bleed again. Then the washing machine started leaking soap all over the floor, and he rushed to turn it off, wondering if he'd put in more soap than he realized. So he sorted out the clothes, and suddenly remembered dinner too late. It had burned. There was nothing else in the house, and there was no money left anywhere for groceries or take-out. It was probably all in his dad's wallet. Then he realized his arm was still bleeding, so he cursed and took care of that, sighing at seeing some of the blood on the floor. He dropped his favourite mug on the floor, watching it shatter into a million tiny shards, feeling a wrench in his gut. He'd had that mug since Takeru was born. It was his "Omedetou oniichan!" mug. Now he not only lost the mug, he lost the hot chocolate he'd been planning to make. So, frustrated and feeling that urge start to build up, he went to do his homework, hoping it would distract him. He went to the living room to get his knapsack only to then realize he'd left an important textbook back at his locker in school.   
  
It was too much. Crying tears of frustration, hating himself for what he was about to do, knowing he should call Taichi instead, he grabbed his blade and held it over his arm, hesitating for just a moment before sinking it deep into his skin. Forget the shallow cuts, he needed the relief, the feeling of tension escaping, and he needed it _right away_. He sighed, and dragged the blade deep down his right arm, watching the blood rush out of the cut, and enjoying it. He removed the blade, went back to the top of his arm, to the right of the cut just a bit, then dug down again, making a cut parallel to the first. He'd just started on his third cut when the door clicked open. His eyes widened; he looked down panicked at the blade he still held in his arm. He thought about trying to hide it, or jumping up and running into his room.   
  
His dad stepped into the room.   
  
Everything was suddenly suspended in motion. Just for a second. Then his dad let out a sort of strangled half-gasp, half-cry, and the feeling was broken.   
  
Yamato disintegrated into helpess, scared tears.   
  
"Ya-Yamato?" Masaharu croaked out, frightened and unsure. He took a hesitant step towards his crying son. "Yamato?" he repeated. "What.. what's going on?" He took more steps until he reached his son, and was soon kneeling by his side, holding his arm gently. He placed his hand over Yamato's, and carefully pulled the blade out of his arm, then pried it out of Yamato's stubborn clutching fingers. He set it down on an end table. He rubbed the fresh cuts ever so gently, and looked at the myriad of older marks on his arm.   
  
"Did you do all these?"   
  
Sobbing, Yamato nodded.   
  
"Is this all of them?"   
  
He shook his head, then pulled up the sleeve on his other arm, his hands shaking. Masaharu looked at those marks as well, then without another word, pulled his son into a tight hug, not even caring that Yamato's blood was smearing all over his shirt. "Son, son," he murmured gently. "Why've you been hurting yourself?"   
  
He wasn't really expecting an answer, so was slightly surprised when Yamato choked out, "Cos.. cos everything hurts so much.. and you were never there, and I needed you.."   
  
He closed his eyes momentarily at that, acknowledging the stab of pain Yamato's statement brought. He didn't know what to say though, so he didn't say anything, just held Yamato until his crying finally stopped and he calmed. Masaharu set him on the couch, and went to the bathroom to get some bandages. He came back and wrapped up his son's arm. Yamato watched him emotionessly. Soon he finished. He rolled Yamato's sleeves back down and set the extra stuff on the end table. He picked up the bloody blade and sat down next to the boy. He held the blade out to Yamato. Yamato looked at it uncertainly for a moment, then up at his father. After a moment, he understood and took it. It was an expression of trust. By offering it to him, Masaharu was essentially saying he was trusting his son. And by taking it, Yamato was accepting that trust.   
  
"So.. are you willing to talk about it?"   
  
"I.. I guess. Maybe some of it.. it's.. s'hard."   
  
"I know it must be. Would you be more comfortable if I just asked some questions, and you answered them?"   
  
A nod.   
  
"How long has this been going on?" The question he most wanted to know, and yet most wanted _not_ to know. Knowing means he had to acknowledge how long he was oblivious while his son was so obviously having problems.   
  
Yamato paused before answering, wondering if he should lie to soften the blow to his dad or just tell the truth. He took a deep breath, not sure which was coming out until he spoke. "About.. a little over a year." _Apparently the truth._   
  
"What caused it?"   
  
He averted his eyes. "I.. I don't really want to talk about that." _Because I'm afraid to tell him I'm gay, and I don't know if he can handle what Eric did.. It's a lot to throw at him._   
  
"Okay. You don't have to.. Does anyone else know about this?"   
  
"Taichi. I told him about two and a half weeks ago."   
  
"What about your brother?"   
  
Yamato shook his head. "No."   
  
"Yamato... son... If you've been having problems.. why did you resort to _that_-" he gestured at the blond's arms "-before telling anyone? Whatever happened.. why didn't you tell me? Why did you start cutting yourself instead?"   
  
"I.." A few tears rolled down his cheeks. "I was mad at you.. I still am.. I thought.. I feel like your stupid tv station comes before me.. thought you barely noticed me.. didn't think you'd listen.."   
  
Masaharu leaned over and held his son again for a moment before sitting back up and speaking. "You and Takeru will always come first. You're right... I've failed you as a father, and I know I'm never around for you, but if something is ever wrong, I _will_ listen.. if you ever need me, just call me up and I'll come right home."   
  
Yamato looked down at the blade still in his hands, fiddling with it. _I don't know what to say... and I don't know what to do. I need help.. can I say that? Will he help me? Does he even know how?_ "Dad, I...."   
  
"You what?"   
  
"I need help." The words were soft, barely spoken, but Masaharu heard them anyway. Just those three words made him want to cry. He didn't, however.   
  
"I know," he said. "I'll get you some help, okay? We'll get this sorted out."   
  
"What kind of help?"   
  
"I think you should see a counselor.. this is way beyond me, I'll have to admit. I don't know anything about people cutting themselves.. and you probably have a lot of things to work out that involve me, and your mother, and the divorce..and whatever happened to cause this in the first place."   
  
"I wish..."   
  
Masaharu waited, hoping his son would go on.   
  
"I wish it had never happened. I wish I could go back in time to that night, and change it, and do it over right. I wish I could just erase it right out of my memory and never have to think about it again. But I've tried, so many times... and yet... I can still remember it, much more clearly than I ever wanted..." he started crying again, softly. "I just wish things were right."   
  
He sighed, and lay down on the couch, using Masaharu's lap as a pillow the way he'd used Taichi's a few weeks ago. Long after his eyes had ran dry, and after Masaharu had given him up for asleep, he spoke. "How.. how come you came home early? You weren't supposed to be here til late..."   
  
"I was too grumpy at work. They got fed up with me snapping at them and sent me home."   
  
"Oh," he mumbled drowsily. "see..." A few minutes later his breathing was slow and even, and he was asleep. Masaharu eased himself from under him, then leaned down and picked him up. The blade that Yamato had still been holding slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. He ignored it for the moment and carried his son to his room, putting him in bed. He yanked off the boy's clothes and managed to get him into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, with a little help from the semi-conscious Yamato. Then he lay him back down and covered him up, flipping off the light and shutting the door.   
  
He walked back into the living room, picking up the blade. The blood had dried. He stared at it, thinking, 'This is my son's own blood, and he put it there himself'. Suddenly angry, he threw it back down and sagged down onto the couch, closing his eyes and sighing.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
The ringing phone seemed unnatural in the early-morning stillness of the house. Yamato groaned and opened his eyes. He glanced over at his clock. 12:45PM Okay, so maybe not early morning.   
  
"Yamato, phone!"   
  
"Ugh.." he muttered. He opened the door and went out to the kitchen, picking up the phone from the counter.   
  
"Hello?"   
  
"Hey! It's Taichi!"   
  
Yamato groaned loudly for effect.   
  
"What? I didn't wake you did I? It's 1:00!"   
  
Yamato only sighed. "Never mind. I'm up now anyway. So what's up?"   
  
"Just wondering if you wanted to come over and watch Star Ocean EX with me."   
  
"When'd you get that?"   
  
"I borrowed it from Daisuke. So, you want to?"   
  
"Sure, I guess so. Can I just come over later on and stay the night? I need to talk to you."   
  
"Yeah. Yeah, that's cool. So, I'll see you in awhile?"   
  
"Okay. Bai, Taichi."   
  
"Bai Yama!" He hung up.   
  
Yamato replaced the receiver slowly. He knew his dad was standing behind him, and he was sort of embarrassed to turn around and face him. For the first time since he'd cut, he was in short-sleeves again, and it made him feel self-conscious to have his cuts out in the open like that. Even if his dad knew now.   
  
"So, what's going on?" his dad asked.   
  
Yamato turned around, wishing he just cut his arms off and hide them. "I'm going to Taichi's later on and staying the night. Is that okay?"   
  
His dad nodded. "Sure. But I want to talk to you some more before you go, alright?"   
  
Yamato looked at the floor. "A-About what?"   
  
"What do you think?"   
  
Silence for a moment. Then, "Alright. When?"   
  
"Are you up for it now?"   
  
"I guess.... what exactly do you want to know?"   
  
Masaharu was silent for a minute, not quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to say. "This.. this thing you do, this cutting.. does it have a name?"   
  
"Self-injury. Sometimes it's called self-injurous behaviour."   
  
"I.. have you ever tried to.. well..."   
  
Yamato could tell his father was uncomfortable asking this question, so he helped him. "Have I tried or wanted to kill myself?"   
  
"Yes." Masaharu was embarrassed, but he had to know.   
  
"No... Cutting isn't about dying, dad. Exactly the opposite, actually. It's about feeling, being alive, knowing that you're real... If it was about dying, I would have killed myself a long time ago.. but I don't want to die."   
  
"That's a relief." He hadn't meant to speak the words aloud. "Yamato... I know that just because I found out about this.. I know that doesn't mean you're going to suddenly stop cutting yourself. I don't expect you to. But... I'm not ashamed to admit that it scares me, and I hope that when you do it.. I hope that you won't hide it from me."   
  
"I can't promise anything. I don't want to promise anything."   
  
"But you'll at least try?"   
  
"That's all I can do.."   
  
"I guess I'll have to accept that. I'll start calling around for a pyschiatrist today. If I find one, you will go, won't you?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
"Hey Yama--You're wearing a T-shirt?!"   
  
Yamato gave him a shaky smile. "Can we go to your room and talk? Right now?"   
  
"Sure. Lemme kick Hikari out." Taichi disappeared, and came back in a few moments. "All clear. Come on."   
  
He followed Taichi to his room, and sat down on the bottom bunk Hikari and Taichi shared. Taichi sat down at the desk chair after shutting and locking the door behind him.   
  
The brunette was the first to start the conversation. "So how come your in a T-shirt where everyone can see them?" Then he looked closer at Yamato's arms. "You did it again." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement.   
  
"Ano... yeah... Last night. Everything just went wrong, and I couldn't help.. I needed..."   
  
"How come you didn't call me?"   
  
"Because I knew you'd talk me out of it, and I wanted it."   
  
"Oh Yama.." Taichi sighed. "But that doesn't explain why you're not covering them now.."   
  
"Dad came home early."   
  
"What?" Taichi frowned in confusion, not understanding at first--then he got it. "He walked in on you doing that?" A quick motion towards the scar-covered arms.   
  
"Yeah. I had the blade _in_ my arm, actually."   
  
"Did he take it bad?"   
  
The blond frowned. "No.. not really. Just took the blade out of my arm, and then wrapped my arm up. We talked about it some. He's going to get me a psychiatrist, if he can find one."   
  
"So.. so did you.. you know, tell him about-?   
  
"Eric? No." Yamato smiled sadly. "I'm not ready to yet. There's so much.. I don't want him to have to take it in all at once.. And I'm scared to admit I'm.. well, gay. I was scared to tell you."   
  
"It doesn't bother me. You're still my best friend, and I still love you, no matter what happens to you or what you do to yourself or what you are or will become. If you became a no good junkie, I'd still love you."   
  
Yamato laughed gently at that, but his next remark wasn't in reply. "I want to tell everybody Taichi. About this. The cutting. I want to kick this thing for real, and I want the support of as many people as possible. But.. I'm scared."   
  
"Well, that's understandable. Do you want me to tell some of them?"   
  
He shook his head. "No. It's-I feel like it's something I need to do myself, you know?"   
  
"Yeah. Have you told Takeru yet?'   
  
"No.."   
  
"You could start by telling him. Tonight."   
  
"What, right now?"   
  
Taichi shrugged. "Sure. Why not? Just call him up and tell him to come round."   
  
"I.. but he'll see.. I don't want to scare him."   
  
Taichi stood up and started rifling through his dresser. After a minute he found what he was looking for and tossed it at Yamato. A long-sleeved black shirt hit him in the face. "Here. It's yours. You left it over here once and I kept forgetting to give it back. Wear that."   
  
"Thanks." Yamato swapped shirts quickly, and then hesitantly accepted the phone Taichi held out. "Call him."   
  
He dialed the number, his fingers shaking. Natsuko answered the phone. "Hello?"   
  
"Natsuko... Okaasan.. is Takeru there?"   
  
"Oh hi, Yamato," she said sighing. "Sure, just a moment." Then, a little further away, "Takeru? Yamato for you. On the phone."   
  
"Thanks. 'niichan?"   
  
"Hi Takeru."   
  
"What's up?"   
  
He looked for Taichi to reassurance. Taichi nodded and smiled at him. "I have to-I have.. I need to tell you something. Could you come over to Taichi's?"   
  
"Right now?"   
  
"Yeah. Is it too much trouble?"   
  
"No.. not really." Takeru sounded bewildered. "I'll be there soon, I guess. Are you okay? Not sick or anything are you?"   
  
_Only mentally._ "No. No, I'm not sick. I'm fine. Come soon. Sayounara."   
  
"'nara."   
  
Yamato hung up and looked at Taichi again, still shaking slightly. Taichi moved to hold his friend, and they stayed that way until Hikari announced Takeru's arrival.   
  
Taichi let go of Yamato, and opened the door. Takeru walked in and looked them, and then took a seat next to his brother. He seemed a little unsure of why he was there, but there was concern in his eyes as well.   
  
"So what did you want to tell me?"   
  
"Um.. well.. it's a little hard. Takeru, what do you think of the term 'cutting'?"   
  
Takeru frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "Cutting? I.. I'm not sure what you mean by it."   
  
Yamato rubbed his eyes. "Well, it's something a person does.. to themselves."   
  
"People cut themselves?"   
  
"Yeah. They do. It doesn't make them strange or crazy.. often there's a good reason behind it."   
  
Takeru's frown just deepened. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with you?"   
  
Yamato swallowed hard. He looked at his brother and smiled. "Because I do it," he said softly.   
  
The younger blond looked startled. "What--'cutting'? You cut yourself?"   
  
"Yes. I cut myself."   
  
"I.. but why?"   
  
"Well... there's lots of different reasons, and you wouldn't understand them, and I can't really explain them."   
  
"Where?"   
  
"Huh?" Yamato asked, ataken back.   
  
"Where are they? The cuts."   
  
"Uhh... on my arms."   
  
"Can I see them?"   
  
"Oh Takeru... you don't really want to.. it's not pretty at all. It wouldn't serve any purpose.."   
  
"It would for me. Please, oniichan?"   
  
Yamato looked to Taichi, pleading silently with his eyes for help. Taichi shrugged. "Why not? You showed me."   
  
He sighed. "Alright, fine. Here." He rolled up his sleeves. There was no visible reaction from Takeru. He only stared at them, seemingly studying them. "That's a lot," he said at last.   
  
"Yes. A year's worth."   
  
"Can I.. can I touch one?"   
  
"Eto... I guess so. Gently."   
  
Tentatively, Takeru reached out with a hand and ran his finger down an older cut. "I don't understand," he whispered.   
  
"I don't think anyone really does, otouto."   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
"Taichi, why are we here again?"   
  
It was three days later. Taichi, Yamato, and Takeru had discussed it for a long time, and had finally decided the best way to break news of Yamato's cutting to everyone was all at once. So Taichi had called everyone up , and asked them to spare an hour or two over at Takeru's apartment, since it was the biggest out of their little group of three. Everyone was able to make it, but they hadn't been told the reason for this gathering, and some of them were understandably confused. Yamato's only regret about this was that Mimi was in America and wasn't planning on visiting for at least several more months. So he'd written her a long email, explaining and asked that she call later when she had a chance.   
  
Taichi just grinned at everyone. "'scuse me guys, be back in a second." He went back to Takeru's room, where Takeru and Yamato were talking. "Your mom's gone, and everyone's here. Are you ready to do this?"   
  
"Not really. How can you ever be ready for something like this? But I can't avoid it."   
  
"Well, come on then, Takeru. Yamato, come about a minute later, like we planned."   
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I haven't forgotten, Taichi." He smiled.   
  
Taichi smiled back, and then he and Takeru headed back to the living room to the others.   
  
"So are you going to tell us why we're here yet, Taichi?" Daisuke asked.   
  
"Yeah, 'niisan, what's this all about?"   
  
Taichi smiled at his sister. "Um, well, it was actually Yamato who wanted you all together. He has a sort of.. announcement of sorts, and it's rather serious."   
  
"What's he want to say? And where is he?"   
  
Before either Taichi or Takeru had a chance to respond to Miyako, Yamato appeared.   
  
He greeted everyone, then stood at the front of the room, looking nervous.   
  
"What is this about, Yamato?" Koushiro asked, looking concerned for his friend.   
  
"Well, Taichi and Takeru and I have talked it over, and we finally decided the best way for me to tell you guys was to show you."   
  
"Show us what?" Ken questioned, in that soft voice of his.   
  
"Something shocking and not very pretty." Yamato closed his eyes, and then slipped his shirt over his head, not wanting to see the horrified looks on everyone's faces when they caught sight of the scars and angry red lines adorning his arms.   
  
A couple of the Erabareshi gasped, sounding not unlike his father. Mostly there was a stunned silence. He wondered who'd break it first. He wondered who'd take it hardest. He wondered who'd hate him after this. _I hope nobody.._   
  
It was Koushiro who spoke, breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen over everyone. "What the hell?"   
  
Yamato opened his eyes upon hearing the red-head's voice. He looked around him. Everyone was staring at him. They all seemed to be confused and slightly disbelieving, like they were trying to convince themselves they were imagining the strange marks on their friend's arms. Only Taichi and Takeru were unaffected, having already seen them before.   
  
"Yamato, what happened to you?" Sora asked, sounding concerned.   
  
"_I_ happened to me," he replied simply. Though he sounded calm and collected, on the inside he felt as he was about to be sick. He also felt the familiar desire biting him again, and it took all his will not to yank his blade out of his pocket and start cutting right then and there. But he knew he'd _really_ freak his friends out if he did. The thought made him grin slightly.   
  
"You happened to you? How can you happen?" Daisuke sounded completely bewildered.   
  
Jou understood first. "You did all that? To yourself?"   
  
Yamato nodded. Iori looked sick. He excused himself and ran to Takeru's bathroom.   
  
"Why?"   
  
Yamato looked at the purple-haired girl. "I.. It wouldn't make sense to you guys.."   
  
"Try us," Hikari said gently.   
  
He sighed. "Well, I do it because... it makes me feel alive. It makes me feel better. You guys know how you can get really frustrated so that you can cry, and after you've cried, you feel better?"   
  
They all nodded.   
  
"Well, it's the same concept. Tears don't help me anymore, so when I'm upset or feeling bad, I cut myself and then I feel better. And just for the record, suicide does not enter into this. I've never tried, and I've never wanted to."   
  
"How long?"   
  
"A year."   
  
"And you never told us?" Koushiro looked at him reproachfully. The blond just shrugged in response. "Well, how come you're telling us _now_?"   
  
"I.. My dad found out.. and he's getting me help.. and I'm _scared_..." And then the nervousness he'd been feeling came out, and the shakes hit. He dropped to his knees, trying not to get sick.   
  
"Oniichan!" Takeru looked terrified, and rushed to his brother, who waved him off.   
  
"I'm fine, Takeru. I'm fine. Just nervous, was all.." He was still shaking. Takeru put his arms around him and helped him to the couch. Koushiro shifted over to make room, Jou likewise. Ken picked up Yamato's shirt and brought it to him.   
  
After a bit, Yamato felt like he would be able to speak without getting sick all over anyone. "You guys.. aren't mad at me?"   
  
"I am, a little," Koushiro said. "But only because you never told us before now." A few others murmured their assent.   
  
"Do you all hate me?"   
  
Choruses of strong "No!"'s immediately rang out around the room.   
  
"Why would we hate you?" Daisuke asked. "That's silly!"   
  
Yamato lifted a shoulder helpessly. "I don't know."   
  
"Well, we don't, and that's that!"   
  
And no more was said on the subject.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
About a week later, Yamato was busy trying to write a new song during Government class when word came that he had a phone call in the office. Curious, he headed down there. The secretary motioned towards the phone, and he picked it up.   
  
"Hello?"   
  
"Yamato." It was his father.   
  
"Dad? Why are you calling me at school? Nothing's happened, has it?" He thought of Takeru.   
  
"No, no, nothing like that," Masaharu rushed to assure his son. "It's just.. I wasn't sure when I'd be home, and I wanted to go ahead and tell you, I found you a psychiatrist."   
  
"Um.. that's great.. when do I see him?"   
  
"Well, it's a her, not a him."   
  
_Oh.. well that's good at least. I think talking to a man would have been too hard.. and embarrassing._ "Her, then."   
  
"Well, you have a.. she called it a preliminary appointment. I guess it's just so you guys can feel each other out, see what you think of each other as patient and doctor. Anyway, you have it Monday, at 10:00 in the morning. I'll take off work and come with you, if you want me to."   
  
"Uh.. yeah, that sounds good. Oh, what's her name?"   
  
"Well, you know your doctor, Dr. Kaos? It's his wife."   
  
Yamato blinked. "I didn't realize his wife was a-" he'd been about to say psychiatrist when he realized just where he was at "-in the same profession."   
  
"Yes, apparently so. Well, I need to get to work, and I'm sure you need to finish class. Don't forget, okay?"   
  
"Okay. And.. thanks."   
  
Masaharu smiled, though he knew his son couldn't see him. "It's no problem. Just want to see you well, Yamato. Sayounara."   
  
"Bai, Otousan." He gave the phone back to the secretary and headed back to class, looking slightly speculative. The secretary stared after him with a speculative look of her own, wondering if he realized his blazer was stained with blood.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
"Yamato! Aren't you ready yet? You're going to be late!"   
  
Yamato appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. He looked completely ready to go, and would have been if it wasn't for the tears streaking across his cheeks.   
  
Masaharu sighed and went towards his son. Yamato held out the blade, still smeared with his red blood. Masaharu took it. "Where? Let me see."   
  
Yamato rolled up his sleeve, and his father winced and sucked in a quick breath. "Jesus." There were twelve fresh cuts across his arms. They were still bleeding somewhat. And they were deep.   
  
"I'm sorry," Yamato sobbed. Masaharu hugged him, though he wasn't really a hugging man. However, he sensed his son's acute distress, and knew how much he needed comfort. He released Yamato, and went and got some bandages. Yamato wiped the tears out of his eyes and wrapped his arm.   
The psychiatrist's office was located in a big building with lots of other offices in it as well. The one Yamato was going to was located on the third floor. He and his father stood in front of the door, looking at the small plaque next to it that read "Child and Teen Psychiatry Branch, Dr. Kaos" as well as a couple other names listed there.   
  
Yamato glanced at his father. "I'm scared," he whispered.   
  
"Me too," his father whispered back. Yamato was startled. _What does he have to be scared about, I wonder?_   
  
After a moment, Masaharu finally stopped staring at the beautiful oak door with it's brass handle, and looked at his son. He opened the door. "Well, let's go in."   
  
Yamato nodded and stepped into a small waiting room, his father right behind him. The place was rather mundane looking. There were a couple of nonsense pictures on the wall (Yamato's word), some potted plants around the place. There were three doors. He assumed they were the individual offices of the doctors. There was a secretary's desk in front of one, and a huge copying machine between the other two. There were also two chairs and a couch. Yamato went and sat down on the couch stiffly. He was trying not to cry, and he wanted to take his bandages off and look at his arm, which was really hurting him bad. He suspected it was bleeding again. He took his jacket off, and before he could even roll up the sleeves of his white shirt, he noticed the blood.   
  
"Dad," he said urgently, tugging at his father's shirt. "I'm bleeding."   
  
Masaharu stopped looking around the office and looked down at his son. "What?" He caught sight of the white shirt. His eyes widened. "What's wrong? Why are you bleeding?"   
  
Yamato looked panicked. "I don't know! This happened once before at school. I cut too deep, I guess. What do I do about the blood?"   
  
"There's nothing we can do right now. Put your jacket back on, and we'll take care of it when we get home."   
  
Yamato nodded. "Alright."   
  
Masaharu sat down next to him then, and they waited in silence for what was only a scant few seconds before the door behind the desk opened. A woman stepped out and smiled at them. She went over to Yamato and held out her hand. "Hello, I'm Dr. Kaos."   
  
Yamato held out the wrong hand, looking apologetic, but she didn't seem fazed, just switched and shook his hand. "I'm Yamato," he introduced himself. She looked at over at Masaharu. "And you must be Mr. Ishida."   
  
He nodded. "I am."   
  
"It's very nice to meet you both." She smiled at Yamato again. "Well, why don't you come on back and we'll get started."   
  
"Alright," he said. But when he stood he was shaking. He shot his father a terrified glance.   
  
"You'll be fine," Masaharu tried to comfort him, ignoring his own anxious feeling.   
  
Yamato nodded, then, with a last glance backwards at his father, followed the woman into her office on his first steps of the long road to recovery.   
  
©2003 butterflie 7 December 2003 Sunday 1:54AM   
  
Author's Notes: Ahhh... a finished fanfic feels so good. I can't recall the last time I started and finished a fanfic in such a short amount of time. Also, everything dealing with SIB (self-injurous behaviour) in this fanfic is completely accurate. I speak from personal experience, okay? This doesn't mean I condone it. In fact, SIB is a very horrible, vicious cycle to get caught in, and my heart to anyone who suffers as well. And good luck to those lucky enough to be on the road to recovery, on which I'm not. *sigh* I try, honestly..  
Last few notes: Sora is evil. If anyone recognizes the quote in the notes at the beginning of the story, and can correctly tell me what it's from, I'll give you a cookie! Hint: It's a song. All I know is the title, so if you give me the artist as well I will love you forever.  
Last last few notes: There will most likely be an epilogue to this coming soon. Review please. Flames accepted, but constructive criticism preferred. Thank you ^-^   
  
//butterflie  
  
satori@interstellar-dreams.net 


	2. Tearing Me Apart:Epilogue

  
Disclaimer: Digimon isn't mine. Gee, imagine that. It belongs to Toei Animation and original creators and god I can't type tonight!   
  
Author's Notes: Well, here's the promised epilogue to Tearing Me Apart. It's POV, because I love things POV. It takes place three years, when Yamato-tachi are 19 and other respective ages. Yamato and Taichi are in college right now, whee! Second year of it, too! Well, enjoy it ^-^   
  
**Tearing Me Apart:Epilogue**  
by: _butterflie, formerly known as Crimson Goddess_  
start: 7 December 2003 Sunday 2:11AM   
  


"So, next Thursday at 4:00 okay with you?"   
  
"Sure," I tell her. "I don't have classes on Thursday."   
  
She smiles at me, that same smile she gave me three years ago when I walked in here for the first time. "Well, I'll see you then Yamato. Take care."   
  
I stand. "You too."   
  
As I'm walking home, I can't help but wonder if the rest of my life is always going to be this. I know that recovering from what happened to me would take time, but it's been three years! And the sad thing is that I've believed before that I was finally free of the cutting. This is my third relapse. Each relapse only brings me down lower. I don't know if I can handle another.   
  
I kick around a couple of clumps of melting snow. Spring will be here soon. I'm glad. Winter is always so depressing. Maybe I just think that because it was around winter when Eric chose to rape me. I don't know. I'm sure Dr. Kaos would probably say that was why. But I'm not really sure. I don't really have a concrete reason for why I think this, but the feeling is there nonetheless.   
  
Because really, the truth is, I still liked Eric even after what he did to me. I never hated him, and I wasn't really mad at him. I was more hurt, and confused and upset. I didn't understand. I've always thought that if he had came and sought me out soon after it happened, and we'd talked about, my life would be so much better. I'd never have taken up cutting myself (Mou! I make it sound like a hobby, as if I'd taken up knitting or something), and I'd probably generally be a bit happier. Of course, I _am_ happier than I was than when I began cutting. Part of that was because I used to be mad at my dad for never being around when I needed him. I thought he cared about his tv station and his stupid job more than me. But when he came early one night and found me with a blade buried in my arm, things changed. Not immediately. It took me awhile to finally understand that he did care about me, and for me to forgive him. And he had to learn how to finally be a dad. But in the end, we both learned, and our relationship is for the better because of it. On the down side, my relationship with my mother is for the worse. Not that we were on good terms to begin with, but now she just thinks I'm a freak and won't have much to do with me. I'm just thankful she still lets Takeru see me. I don't know what I'd have done is she forbid it. Probably just cut some more.   
  
Now I'm fumbling around in my pocket for my key, which I can't seem to find. Must have left it in the apartment. Damn... I hope Taichi's home. I bang on the door and wait. Lucky for me, he's back from his class. He opens the door and smiles at me. In his hand he's dangling my keys. "Forgot something?"   
  
I smile sheepishly at him. "Yeah... good thing you were here, huh?"   
  
He merely smirks at me and moves aside for me to come in. Yeah, we share an apartment. But don't get me wrong. We're not involved. I mean, yes, okay, I'm gay. But Taichi' straight, and even if he had been gay, we'd probably never become lovers. He's my best friend, and I can't imagine him meaning anything more than that to me, no matter how much I love him. And he feels the same.   
  
_"Taichi, if you were gay, could you ever see us being lovers?"   
  
He smiled at me. "Tryin' to tell me something, beautiful?"   
  
I smacked him, not hard enough to really hurt. "No! Don't be stupid. You're my best friend. I'm just saying, if you were gay, do you think we could be lovers?"   
  
"Mmm.." he srunched up his face for a moment, thinking about it I guess. "No, not really. Like you said, we're best friends. I don't think we could be any more. Why?"   
  
"Oh, it's just that this guy in one of my classes thought that we were together. I think a lot of people think that, since we live together and we're pretty close."   
  
He laughed. "That's a silly thing to base it on."   
  
I laughed with him. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"_   
  
"So how'd it go?' Taichi asks me, breaking me out of my recollections.   
  
I sighed. "Same as usual Taichi."   
  
"But what about the relapse? She wasn't upset about that?"   
  
"I was more upset than she was. I mean, it looks like I'm never going to be able to stop..."   
  
"Sure you will. It just takes time, Yama."   
  
Time.... right. But how much more time? It really does feel like I'll never be able to get past this. It did, once. I've finally worked out everything about my parents divorcing, and how I felt about that... I worked out how I felt about dad not ever being around, and the fact that my mom hates me.. Really, the only thing that feels unfinished to me is Eric. I never had a sense of closure with him.. Everything was just left suspended, hanging in mid-air. I wish I could see him...   
  
"See who?"   
  
"Huh?" I looked at Taichi in confusion, only then realizing I must have spoken aloud.. "I.. no one..."   
  
"Eric, right?"   
  
I didn't respond, and Taichi sighed. "Why would you want to see him, Yamato? He messed up your life."   
  
"It's just.. I feel everything was left incomplete. I need.. I don't know, closure of some sort. I never really got any. He raped me, left, and I never saw him again except for that one brief moment three years ago. I just want to see him, ask him why..."   
  
"If you feel that way, then why don't you go talk to him?"   
  
"What?" He can't be serious, right? It's a crazy idea!   
  
"Go find him. Talk to him, like you want. Get a piece of mind. Maybe then you'll finally stop cutting on yourself."   
  
"I don't think he lives in the same place."   
  
"So? Look, here." Taichi went and grabbed a phone book. "What's his last name?"   
  
"Zander. He's American.."   
  
_"Eric Zander? Isn't that sort of an unusual name?"   
  
He shrugged and continued to play with my hair. "Well, I am American."   
  
"Really?" I looked up into his face. He smiled down at me gently.   
  
"Yeah. I was born in America."   
  
Amazing... And to think I'd never known.. I guess I always thought his parents were fans of America or something, the way so many Japanese people are. "So how come your Japanese is perfect? Can you speak English?"   
  
"Hello. I am Eric Zander. How do you do?" he said in English. His English was the same as most other Japanese- broken, painful sounding, not quite formed right. We laughed. "That's pretty much the extent of my English. My parents moved here when I was just two. Whatever English I knew then, I've forgotten now."   
  
I smiled. "My foreign boyfriend.. You'd think I'd have realized it before, what with your name and all.. Man, I feel a little stupid now."   
  
He leaned over and kissed me softly, sweetly. "You're forgiven."_   
  
"Here it is!" He held out the phone book to me. "Zander, Eric. Here. Now you can go see him."   
  
I backed away from Taichi's offering. No matter how much I wanted to see him, to go through with it would.. it'd be madness. Sheer stupidity. After all, even if he had truly seemed to care about me then, I had no reason to trust him after he raped me. And it's not like he'd care about me now.   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
I spent all week thinking about what Taichi had said. Was it worth it, to risk everything for a boy who I'd once dated four years ago, and who shattered my trust and belief in everything with just the crude actions of one regrettable night? Was it worth it to throw away what I'd worked so hard for just for the boy I'd once been half in love with? I didn't know. Wasn't really sure I _wanted_ to know. I knew that if I went and saw Eric, everyone would think I was crazy, perhaps with the exception of Taichi. And if dad got wind of it...   
  
_"Dad?"   
  
He looked up from the book he'd been only half reading and focused his sleepy eyes on me. "Yes?"   
  
I came over and sat down beside him on the bed, and he sat up. I didn't say anything for awhile. I didn't really need to. He knew that I wanted to talk, and would when I was ready. So we sat comfortably in silence for a bit.   
  
"Dr. Kaos thinks that I should tell you something."   
  
"Tell me what?"   
  
I looked down at my arms, the marks visible as always these days. In a sort of compromise to dad, I'd started wearing short-sleeved shirts around the house, that way he'd always know when I'd hurt myself again. Dr. Kaos was actually the one who suggested the idea.   
  
"She thinks I should tell you the original reason behind these." I didn't have to define 'these', we both knew quite well what I was talking about. "She thinks that it would be good for me if I told you, and would help if you knew."   
  
"Well if you feel you're still not ready, you don't have to tell me you know. No matter how much of a good idea she thinks it is," he pointed out to me. He took one of my arms in his hand and gently traced a cut. "This, I'm just happy to know about it. Right now it's my main concern. You just tell me about the other whenever you're ready."   
  
I smiled nervously. "But that's just it. I think I am ready.. and you deserve to know anyway."   
  
He stroked my hair softly. "Thank you then. What is it you need to tell me about?"   
  
I swallowed. This was it. No turning back after this point. If he condemned me, there'd be nothing I could do. "Well, about two years ago.. I started dating someone." I paused. "A guy."   
  
I looked up at him when I said this, and though he looked slightly surprised, he didn't seem to be disgusted or suddenly back away from me. I considered it a good sign, and went on.   
  
"His name was Eric. He was originally from America, but moved here when he was two. I met him at one of my after-concert parties. We really liked each other, and started going together. He was my first boyfriend, and I think I was starting to-to really care about him."   
  
"Geez, how'd I miss all that?" dad muttered, but I knew he wasn't upset. Still just a little surprised was all.   
  
I grinned. "Sorry, but I had to keep it secret. Didn't know how you'd feel about the whole gay thing.. Anyway.. that one night, when you worked all night.."   
  
"I remember that night. I kept wishing I could go home. I felt anxious for some reason, and was sort of worried. I never did know why. Did something happen that night?"   
  
I nodded sort of jerkily. "Yeah.. I.. Eric.. we were sort of involved-" at the look on dad's face I hastily said, "I mean, not like sex! I didn't want that. We weren't even touching each other like that! I just feel silly saying that we were-" I blushed. "-kissing, to you, it's just weird."   
  
"I guess it would be, at that." He smiled slightly.   
  
"Well, I don't know what happened, I honestly don't.. he just started taking things further. I didn't want him to. I told him that and asked him to stop. He didn't. He.. he.. it really hurt, and I cried and kept waiting for you to come home, but you never did.."   
  
Dad's face was very dark now. "Are you trying to tell me he raped you?"   
  
I nodded hesitantly. "Um.. yes?"   
  
"And you kept something like_ that _secret?"   
  
"You never came home! What was I supposed to do? I was scared and confused, and hurt all over. I'd thought Eric had really liked me, and I didn't understand it all. I kept waiting and waiting, but when you finally came home, I didn't want to come out anymore, didn't want to open my mouth, didn't want to have to make an effort any more. You just assumed I was sick, and then I started hating you for that. Because you hadn't been there, and you didn't notice anything was wrong. And then a month later I cut myself making dinner, and that's what started everything."   
  
"This Eric just better be glad I don't know where he lives.." he mumbled, then moved to hug me. "Otherwise, I'd kill him.."_   
  
I've never forgotten those words about Eric. I didn't bother explaining to dad that I wasn't really mad at Eric. I knew he wouldn't understand. Instead, I had just let him hold me, and when he started to cry, I turned around and hugged him back, crying slightly myself.   
  
But now... surely it was different now. I could find Eric.. I really could.. I had his address. I was fairly confident he'd at least remember me. And I could go tomorrow. I only had three classes, and they were all in the morning. After that I was free the rest of the day.   
  
_Do you realize what you are thinking?!_ My mind screamed at me. _This is insanity! Complete and utter madness! Not only is it a crazy idea, but it's a dangerous one as well! Eric isn't the guy you thought he was! You have no idea what he could do to you now!_   
  
"Yes, but I want to find out," I muttered.   
  
"Did you say something Yama?"   
  
I blushed. "Oh, just talking to myself Taichi.. sorry.."   
  
"Talking to yourself is one of the first signs of insanity, you know," he smirked.   
  
I just winced. If only he knew.. "Taichi?"   
  
"Hmm?" he put down his pencil and finally looked up from his work. He'd been sitting there doing it all evening. A far cry from the Taichi of high school, who wouldn't do his work even when in danger of failing. I'm still not quite sure what happened.   
  
"Do you really think going to see Eric is a good idea?"   
  
"Well.... yes and no."   
  
"How do you mean?" I was pretty sure Taichi was probably thinking along the same lines I was, but I had to be positive.   
  
"Ummm..." he scrunched up his face, thinking. "Let me put it this way. You want to see him again, right?"   
  
I nodded.   
  
"Okay. I think that's a good idea. You feel things are left unfinished, incomplete. I know that when a person feels like that, usually they can't recover from whatever trauma they've suffered from unless they resolve things in some way. You haven't resolved things, therefore you can't completely start healing. But if you went to see Eric, you'd finish whatever was started four years ago. You'd finally have some piece of mind, and so would be able to eventually totally recover from it.   
  
"That's the good part of it. The bad part, however. It's a really fucking dangerous idea."   
  
I started. That hadn't been quite what I was expecting him to say, and I told him so.   
  
He just gave me a small smile. "It is, though. Eric isn't the same person you began dating five years ago, Yamato. Who knows what might happen to you if you go visit him."   
  
"I know," I said quietly. "That's the main reason I'm not sure whether or not to go. I want to see him, Taichi. I really do. But I just don't know if it's worth it."   
  
"I think it is," he told me. "Providing you don't get hurt, I think that whatever he could say to you is worth going to hear."   
  
I let out a sigh. "I suppose you're probably right.."   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
The next day I got called to Odaiba High. They had a new kid for me. When I say that, I mean that I was supposed to help counsel.   
  
See, about a few months after I started seeing Dr. Kaos, my biology teacher, Tadaji-Sensei, became sort of concerned about me. I used to "use the bathroom" a lot during his class. What I'd do was go and cut for about five minutes, because he was a nice teacher and I figured he wouldn't ask much too many questions. But he started worrying because I'd be doing it so much, and was always gone just a little bit too long. He used to send Taichi in after me sometimes, but Taichi wouldn't ever tell him anything. So one day I was gone for about ten minutes. It'd been a particularly bad day. I don't really remember why. But I just sort of lost it, and kept cutting and cutting.. my arm was pretty much nothing but blood when I finished. It was then that Tadaji Sensei walked in looking for me. Obviously, he saw my arm.   
  
So all the school officials found out, and watched me closely after that. Especially Tadaji Sensei. Then when I started college, I decided to work at the school, counseling students who were dealing with self-injury. That's the only kind of problem I'll handle, and I usually only handle a few sessions with the student. Basically I'm just there to help the student tell his or her parents, and then it's up to the parents to seek additional help. Taichi says I'm a saint to do this. I argue that it makes sense, since I have hands-on experience with this thing, and the school employed counselor doesn't. It's not like there's all that many kids they discover cutting themselves or burning themselves or bruising.. there's lots of many different forms of self-injury, and it's hard to recognize the signs, especially when the kids make efforts to hide them. But ever since they discovered, they'd made a special effort to be more aware and get the kids the help they need.   
  
The kid I saw today reminded me of me, actually. His parents divorced when he was little. His sister stayed with his mom, and he went with his dad. His mom has declared she wanted nothing to do with him, and his dad was always working... a lot like me. And too, what happened to me happened to me.. I'm hoping I can convince him to tell his dad soon. He's even worse off than I was.   
  
I walked home slowly, my mind half on the kid at school, the other half occupied with Eric. Should I? The little slip of paper with his address on it was in my pocket. I'd finally written it down, just in case I ever wanted it. I pulled it out and unfolded it. The creases were well worn. I'd already looked at it tons of times. I thought again of the kid, crying in the small conference room the school reserved for my sessions. I thought again of myself at fifteen, crying on the floor after Eric left, bleeding, hurt, not understanding.. I thought of how happy I'd been at fourteen, meeting Eric.. I knew right then he was the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.   
  
Acting on a sudden whim, I took the turn that would lead me in the direction of Eric's apartment. I walked along quickly, nervously, wanting to do this before I could stop to consider it and change my mind. It was madness, what I was doing, but I knew if I didn't do it now I'd be left unsatisfied for the rest of my life, always wondering what could have been. I pulled out my cellphone and quickly dialed a number.   
  
Taichi answered it almost immediately. "Hello?"   
  
"Taichi. It's me."   
  
"Yamato! Where are you? I thought you would have been home hours ago!"   
  
"I'm sorry. The school had someone new for me, so I had to see to that. I'm on my way to Eric's now, actually."   
  
There was only silence from the other end.   
  
"Taichi? Are you still there?"   
  
"I'm here," he replied quietly. "Just.. be careful, okay? And good luck."   
  
"Thanks." I smiled. "Bai, Taichi."   
  
"Bai."   
  
I terminated the call just as I stopped in front of the building Eric lived in. I took a nervous breath and went inside. I found Eric's apartment way too easily.   
  
I raised my hand.   
  
Knocked.   
  
Nothing.   
  
Then, "I'm coming, just a minute!" It was Eric's voice. I almost turned and bolted. Then the door swung open and Eric's face and body filled the doorway. He looked slightly confused. "Can I help you?"   
  
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I could fast feel my resolve crumbling. I tried again. "I.. I....."   
  
He frowned and peered at me closely. "Do I know you from somewhere?"   
  
"Uh-uh-I-Eric.." I was stuttering in panic and fear.   
  
Suddenly it hit home; his eyes widened and he stumbled backwards in shock. "Yamato?!"   
  
I almost fainted right then and there. Yet somehow I managed to gather my wits and calmly reply, "Hi Eric. Can I come in?"   
  
+-+-+-+   
  
The walk home was spent in a daze. I don't really recall it. When I got to my place, though, Taichi was there waiting anxiously for me.   
  
"Yamato! You're home, finally! You've been gone so long, I was worried! I didn't know if something had happened to you or what! So how did it go, was it alright, did he remember you, did he hate you or even talk to, he didn't hurt you did he because I was so afraid that he would, Yamato, Yama, Yama are you listening to me?"   
  
Not really; Taichi was just babbling. I walked past him into our living room. Almost immediately I spotted my blade. It was sitting there on the table. I had left there two days ago, when I last used it. I walked over to it, looked down at it. Taichi immediately shut up his babbling and watched me. I stared down at it, thinking.   
  
_"I'm not offering you an excuse, Yamato. I can't. There is no excuse for what I did. I just.. All I have is a reason, and I offer it to you in the hopes that you can try to understand a little better."   
  
"That's all I ask, Eric. All I ever wanted was to just understand it.. You always seemed to really like me; heaven knows I was crazy about you. You'd always been so kind before.. I couldn't figure out why-why.."_   
  
"Yamato?"   
  
I looked over at Taichi briefly, then back down at the blade. Slowly, I reached down and took it. I held it in my hands, turning it over and over, studying it.   
  
"Yamato? Are you okay? Did something happen at Eric's?"   
  
_"I want to be friends again," he said softly. "I don't know if you can ever forgive me for what I did, but I hope that if someday you do, you'll consider me.. I never stopped thinking about you all these years. I mean, I know it's too much to hope that we could ever be lovers.."   
  
"I thought about you too, Eric. I thought about you a lot. I tried to understand.. I kept hoping you'd come and see me, explain yourself, but you didn't.." I smiled awkwardly at him. "I'd sort of like to be friends again, too. I'd like to start over; I want to trust you. And-who knows? Anything could happen."_   
  
I smiled softly, then tossed the blade to Taichi. "Here. I don't think I'll be needing this for awhile."   
  
He grinned and caught it easily. "Yamato!" He came over to me and hugged me, long and hard. "Does this mean what I think it does?"   
  
My smile widened. "We're starting over, Taichi," I whispered. "Eric and I..things finally have a chance to be right."   
  
I know it won't be easy. Starting over with Eric--that's going to take a lot of time and patience. It's going to be painful, and it's going to hurt a lot. I know that just because I've finally sought Eric out again after all these years doesn't mean I'm automatically going to be able to stop cutting. But knowing that things can be alright between Eric and me--it will help. A lot. It's going to be hard. But I'm hoping that in the end, it will all be worth it.   
  
Now I just have to figure out how to break it to my dad.   
  
© 2003 butterflie 9 December 2003 Tuesday 9:42PM   
  
Author's Notes: well, the epilogue turned out a little longer than I'd meant it to, but that's okay, isn't it? ^^;; Thanks to everyone that reviewed! And so far, no one has figured out where the quote came from. Though I've discovered I must be the only person to read people's disclaimers and author's notes anymore. A reviewer gave me the name of the Linkin Park song exert I'd put at the beginning of the story, even though it clearly says both in the disclaimer and RIGHT AFTER the lyrics, "In the End, Linkin Park". Come on, people, work with me here! But anyways, the song was called "Drip Drip Drip" and I have no idea who it's by! If anyone does, let me know, I'd love to get more stuff by the guy! And my apologies to Taito fans out there, but I just needed a change of scenery, ya know?  
Last few notes: I am SO sorry about the spelling mistakes in the story.. I could have sworn I ran my spell-checker, but either I was thinking of something else or my spell-checker went wonky on me. In fact, I'm almost positive I ran it. Sorry again!   
  
//butterflie  
Interstellar-Dreams.net  
satori@interstellar-dreams.net 


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